Falling Into Right

by Sharon Kay

  “Except it wasn’t a problem. It was a baby.”

  She nodded sadly. “And even though it wasn’t planned, I knew I wanted kids one day, and I was looking forward to that one. Maybe it was sooner than I expected, but I still was happy about it. So it hurt to lose it. Emotionally.”

  “And he didn’t care?”

  “Well, he was extra nice to me and seemed concerned and all, but I think he figured we’d just try again. The doctor had explained that these things happen more commonly than a lot of people realize, and nothing was wrong with my body. I don’t think it was emotional for him.”

  “I’m sorry, Becca.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a half smile. “I guess I thought the same, that we would try again, and maybe right then wasn’t our time to have a child. So I went on with life. Or I tried. My mom was so supportive, but she had already been diagnosed.”

  He just watched her, pissed at the hand she had been dealt and impressed with her inner strength.

  “Then she was gone, and I guess while I was reeling from that, I lost track of things, forgot to take my birth control pills, and got pregnant again. Another surprise. This time, Kirk was a little mad. He kind of understood why I’d forgotten to take my pills, but he also reminded me that we had said we’d be careful and wait. And obviously, I hadn’t done that. I lost that pregnancy, too.”

  Shane leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “It is going to take all my strength not to punch that guy in the face next time I—”

  “Shane, no. It was my fault. I stole the money. I am guilty.” She clenched her hand into a fist. “I feel horrible about it. There’s days where I can’t stop thinking about it. Why did I do that?”

  Shane opened his mouth, about to say there wasn’t always an answer, but she wasn’t done.

  “I miss my mom. I missed her extra that day. I had dreamed about her. She was sitting on my couch holding a baby and in the dream I just knew it was mine.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “And then I started thinking about where she was and how I was sure she was in heaven and she was taking care of… of b-both my babies, and all three of them are together now, and…” She stopped and waved a hand in front of her eyes.

  Shane slid close and draped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

  She took a deep breath. “When I took the money… I, um… I don’t know if this is going to make sense at all. I’ve been too scared to tell anyone.”

  “You can tell me.”

  Hesitant eyes met his. “But I broke the law just like those guys at the courthouse today.”

  Ah, hell. “That’s different. They worked as a team, like they had it planned—”

  “But you don’t know what they’re going through personally. What if they’ve lost someone?”

  He frowned. “You’re right. I never thought about that.” Leave it to this surprising little woman to show him a different view of what had seemed cut and dry. “Their actions seemed premeditated. And they resisted when asked to stop. That’s why I didn’t think twice.”

  “I’m not trying to defend them or stick up for them,” she said. “It’s just that there’s another side to every story. But that fact can be easily forgotten.”

  True again. “Still, you can talk to me. I promise to listen and not judge.”

  “Okay, here goes.” She paused, and a sharp gust of wind sent leaves swirling down the hill. “Do you… do you know what it’s like to hurt so badly that you aren’t yourself anymore?” The words fell from her lips slowly, as if she was sounding them out for the first time.

  Jesus. He nodded as memories of the first weeks after the blast careened through his mind.

  “But the thing is you don’t realize it. You don’t realize how far from your own normal you are. You can’t see it, and then you do something totally out of character.”

  He ran his hand down her back, waiting, hanging on every hitch of her breath as raw honesty radiated from her. So flawed, yet still with more strength than he’d had seven years ago.

  “I took that money because… because I wanted to feel something, anything besides sadness, loss, Kirk not caring as much as I did. Taking the cash was scary. I was terrified, but also in a weird way, I was in control. I felt. I felt fear and not grief. I felt control, not the lack of it. Like for once, I determined what emotions I had. And when the idea popped into my head, I just did it. Then I was scared they would notice before I left. I could barely sleep that night.” Her shoulders sagged. “I guess that makes it worse. If I was thinking about it, why didn’t I think more rationally?”

  “One thing I remember from the psychiatrists at the hospital is they said unresolved grief and depression can affect your actions. And it can make you do things you wouldn’t normally do.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. That’s what they told us, and the shrinks talked to our families too. Told them to keep an eye on us, watch for out-of-character behavior, stuff like that.” But obviously, no one had been watching out for Becca.

  “I guess that makes me feel a little better. What I did was so stupid. But for that brief time, I felt better about my life. Then everything fell apart, and I just felt guilt, shame, and confusion. I still do.”

  A strand of hair escaped its confines and blew across her cheek. Shane reached for it before she could, gently tucking it behind her ear. She raised her eyes, and the recognition of what he saw there hit him like a punch in the chest. It was the hollow, resigned, unguarded expression of someone life had decided to kick when they’re down. His life had changed in a heartbeat one hot, hellish day. But hers had changed over the course of months. One blow after another, drawn out, not letting her up to breathe.

  The connection that can only be forged in shared trauma whispered in his mind. “I think you’ve paid your dues,” he murmured.

  “I want to move on, but I’m scared this will always pull me back. What if something else bad happens, and I do something dumb again? What if I can’t react normally to the hard times in life?”

  He had the strongest urge to tell her he would have her back. But it was too soon to make a promise like that. “You had the trifecta of hard times. I know how that shit drags you down.”

  “It really does.” She reached for his hand. “I’m sorry. I came out here to hear about your crappy day, and I totally took over the conversation.”

  “It’s okay. I asked.” He took her hand. “I want to know you. All the good and all the bad.”

  “Well, I think I’ve dumped all that in your lap.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “I’m still trying to figure everything out. And I’m sorry for the loss of your friends. It hurts. Life isn’t fair. I get it,” she whispered.

  He cupped her cheek. “I know.” No one else ever had.

  Chapter 17

  Becca’s head spun from the rush of sharing her deepest, scariest thoughts with Shane. She couldn’t imagine his experience—losing his team in a violent blast in a hostile land, orchestrated by people who didn’t know him and hated him anyway. But the pain and anger filtering through his voice was another thing. It was familiar, something she would punch and claw if she could. If pain were tangible.

  But loss wasn’t something she could attack with fists. Instead, it hovered over everything like a cloud, becoming too much if she let it. And yeah, maybe some people would think he was weird—or worse—for coming up here alone and having a few beers. But she doubted those people had been dealt the shit-for-luck lottery in life.

  “Come here.” He slid closer to her and tugged at her calves, unfolding her legs and draping them across his lap. He wrapped a brawny arm around her. She didn’t know how he wasn’t cold. He wore jeans and a dark, thermal, long-sleeve T-shirt. She couldn’t see much in the dark, but she could guess how well it fit and how defined his muscles would be underneath. She leaned her head
on his shoulder, instantly warmed by his body.

  “How many years ago was it?” she asked.

  “It’ll be seven soon. Coming up on the anniversary.” He rubbed a hand down her arm. “Maybe that’s another reason why I’m out here tonight.”

  “What did you do after you were released from the hospital?”

  “Came back to Sundown. The town had a parade. They made a big deal over it. I didn’t want it, honestly. But everyone kept saying they were proud of me. I could see it in their eyes that they meant it, and they felt I had done something heroic. I didn’t feel that way, but decided I should shut up and not whine. Accept it, say thanks, and hope it all died down soon.”

  “Like when the bouncer at Ollie’s recognized you.”

  “Yep.”

  All along the hill, tall wild grass swayed and dipped in the faint breeze, untroubled by anything. Wind, rain, snow, dormant season, or summer—that grass just kept coming back. No one tended it, but it never gave up.

  She reached to pluck one stalk and ran her fingers over it. Shane’s story had been all over the news. Her losses had been private, yet the fallout from it was in the papers. That was how grief was. There was the side everyone saw, and then there was the ugly part that only a few got to see. Not everyone could handle the sadness, and sometimes, it was easier not to talk about it.

  Unless you were with someone who’d also been through it.

  She tilted her head up to find his eyes locked on her. And for a moment, even though they were only lit by the half moon, the stormy intensity there stole her breath. “So…” Her voice came out breathier than she planned. “Do you feel better, coming out here tonight?”

  “I feel better since you came out here tonight.” His voice rumbled, and tucked close to him, it vibrated from his body to hers.

  She wanted to ask, “Really?” She wanted to say she hadn’t meant for him to tell her the ugly details of the blast. But finding someone who understood where you were coming from was like finding a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean. It provided relief, hope, and the knowledge that, even though you may not know where you were going—you weren’t going there alone. So she simply gazed up into his handsome face and whispered, “Me too.”

  His hand slipped to her lower back with just enough pressure to keep her close, and his head dipped a fraction lower. Her breath quickened. The memory of their first kiss sizzled across her frontal lobe, shorting out any thoughts about loss or sad times. All that was left was the sensation of his body warming her and the hunger in his eyes that said he, too, remembered everything about that kiss.

  She laid a hand on his chest and slid her fingers up, greedily tracing the muscles underneath. He didn’t wait. Warm lips covered hers with an urgency she didn’t expect, but it awakened the craving that had been denied the last time they kissed. She caressed his stubbled jaw and brought her other hand up behind his neck.

  His tongue swept into her mouth and teased hers with coaxing strokes. Warmth spread through her limbs at the way he moved, as though he’d been waiting to kiss her and was making himself go slow.

  Was he concerned she wouldn’t want it? Oh, hell no. She wiggled closer on the old brick, bringing her knees up and leaning into him. Any closer and she’d be in his—

  With a swift move, his arm slid under her legs, and he shifted her to his lap. A tiny gasp escaped her. She was still sitting sideways, but now she was up higher, his warm thighs under her rear. She slid her hands along his broad shoulders and up into his hair to run her fingers through it.

  He dominated the kiss, exploring her mouth. His sheer strength surrounded her, sparking every tiny sensation into a firework. Strong hands caressed her back before one settled at her waist and the other at her hip. His fingers gripped her as his mouth teased, just like he’d done in her foyer, making her body ignite.

  She panted as he broke the kiss and moved to her neck. His lips traced a wicked path down to the collar of her fleece. No tickles this time. “Shane,” she breathed.

  His only response was to tug the zipper of her fleece down and move those naughty lips lower. She welcomed the night air on her overheated skin, a lot of which was suddenly on display. Thinking she was home for the night, she’d thrown on an old, thin, deep V-neck top that she planned to sleep in. Not the kind of thing she wore in public. She’d pulled on the fleece in a hurry when she talked to Shane.

  Now, he let out a low curse as he nuzzled just below her collarbone. She dropped her head back and arched her spine. This wasn’t how she thought tonight would go, but the ache in her lower belly grew more intense with each touch of his mouth and hands.

  The hand at her hip moved up as he glided over each of her ribs with teasing slowness.

  Then he stopped. He pulled back a fraction, breathing hard.

  She raised her head and met his torn gaze.

  “Becca,” he rasped out a breath. “This might kill me, but we should stop.”

  “It’s okay.” She dropped her hands from his nape to those huge biceps. “I, uh, didn’t know I’d end up here with you tonight.”

  He grinned and set his hands at her hips. “Out here in the dark with a dog and some ghosts?”

  “Not afraid of ghosts.” She traced his jaw as her heartrate slowed. “I’m glad I got to see you.”

  “Wasn’t my best night.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Wasn’t mine, either.” She paused as Denver got up to investigate something in the trees behind them. “Shane, I want you to know you can talk to me anytime. About anything. Call, text, whatever. If you want to come out here again, that’s cool. I’ll bring f-o-o-d.”

  He chuckled. “I like you, Becca Gable.”

  “The feeling’s mutual.”

  “Go out with me this weekend.”

  “Okay.” As if she’d say no. “What do you wanna do?”

  “Friday night football.” He grinned. “Sundown-Marmion is playing Hamilton.”

  “Oooh, are we going to be able to sit through that and be civil?” Their high school alma maters had the longest standing rivalry in the county.

  “Don’t know. We might have to leave early.” The wicked glint in his eye stole her breath all over again. Promise and temptation rolled together into a delicious push-pull, and she didn’t know how she would make it to Friday.

  Chapter 18

  It was nearly halftime on Friday night, and Sundown-Marmion’s varsity team was clobbering Hamilton’s. Shane, proud of his hometown team, grinned at Becca. After an early initial touchdown, her team had racked up nothing but a mess of penalties.

  Another fumble. She covered her eyes. “I can’t look.”

  Shane tucked an arm around her in the crowded stands. “Maybe they’ll regroup at halftime.”

  “Fingers crossed,” she muttered doubtfully and fiddled with the edges of a green scarf.

  He hadn’t been sure it was scarf weather, but when she’d arrived at his house, he’d forgotten pretty much anything logical. She wore a denim jacket and jeans that she was poured into, leaving her ass tempting and sexy, and he had to force himself to think of something else. Cowboy boots and long, loose hair made her hotter than ever. And he had doubted anything could top her in a wet shirt.

  Shane cheered as Sundown ran the recovered fumble in for a touchdown. “Still not safe to watch the scoreboard,” he said.

  She shot him an amused glance. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

  “’Course.” The clock ticked down to double zeros. “Want to stay for the halftime show or grab a snack?”

  “Snack. That popcorn smells delicious, and I could use a stretch.” She stood.

  He took her hand, partly to keep her close in the crowd, and partly because it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Hell, he’d kissed her, touched her, had her on his lap—but somehow, they’d skipped holding hands, though maybe that made
sense. They’d already unloaded baggage in the kind of serious conversations that most people saved for later. Something about Becca made him want to throw the typical rule book out the window.

  As if he knew what the rules were anymore, and hell if they even mattered.

  He led her to the concession area. Half the town was here—standard procedure, since this was the place to be on a fall Friday night in Redemption County. The marching band belted out an oldies song. People of all ages mingled and grinned, even those wearing Hamilton’s colors. Everyone must have had a popcorn craving because the line stretched far beyond the table where two teenage girls scooped the fluffy kernels from a glass-walled machine.

  Through the milling crowd, a blond woman walked toward them. She was vaguely familiar, yet Shane couldn’t quite place her. She, however, focused on him with a smile that said she was happy to see him.

  “Officer Marlow, how are you?” The woman stopped right in front of them, so they had to stop as well. Pale hair fell in straight long locks, and she wore a close fitting sweater and jeans. She smiled up at him and ignored Becca.

  Becca released his hand and pressed herself so close she was nearly leaning on him. Shane cleared his throat. “Hi, um…”

  “Chelsea.” A huge smile revealed bright white teeth. “We met in the woods the other day.”

  Woods. The little boy. Shane ground his molars. What the hell was she doing here? “You’re the reporter.” He muttered it like the fact it was, trying, out of manners, not to inject his personal opinion into the word.

  “Amazing teamwork by you and your…” she looked around as if she expected to see Denver at the game. Her eyes bounced briefly to Becca before popping back to Shane. “Your dog. Can he not come to the games?”

  Shane was about to point out that Denver only came to schools if he was working, but Becca piped up.

  “You’re from the St. Louis paper?” she asked.